


Don't Tell Me That You Love Me

by Kaylele



Series: All My Original Work Stuff [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Arguing, Bad Parenting, Bitterness, Breaking Up & Making Up, Christianity, F/M, Kissing, Moving On, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:20:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25173775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaylele/pseuds/Kaylele
Summary: Randy writes a poem about her old relationship with Seth. Needless to say, things didn't go so well.
Relationships: Seth/Randy
Series: All My Original Work Stuff [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803400
Comments: 7
Kudos: 3





	1. Poems

**Author's Note:**

> I literally spent all night creating a stupid backstory for these people who don't even need to exist but now that I have the backstory (and the characters) I might as well write stuff about them

Don’t hug me near the pulpit  
Don’t hold my hand in the pew  
Don’t look at me with those longing eyes  
When you know all I want is you

Don’t tell me it’ll be ok  
When you make up all these rules   
Don’t act surprised when we break them   
You know we’re both just fools

Don’t kiss me in your bedroom   
Don’t hug me at the door  
Don’t act like you still want me   
When you treat me like a whore

Don’t listen to your mother   
When she preaches in your ear   
You know her words are lies   
She just wants me to disappear

Don’t break my heart like last time  
Don’t apologize again  
You know I can’t stay mad at you   
My heart will always win

If you bring up Jesus one more time   
I swear I’m going to leave   
I’m not “out of touch with God”  
You’re just too naive

Stop reciting verses   
Stop bringing up my sins   
You sound just like your mother   
You two could pass as twins 

Don’t act like it’s my fault   
When you broke your stupid rule  
You’re the one who kissed me   
Stop treating me like a tool

Don’t tell me that you love me   
Don’t talk to me again  
All you do is use me   
Then complain, complain, complain

If I was such a burden  
Why’d you keep me for so long   
Why’d you tell me such sweet things  
If you knew our love was wrong

Could it be, you really cared for me  
That you loved me, like you said  
Or was I just the fool  
Who you purposely misled

You’re with someone else now  
So I really shouldn’t care   
All our drama’s in the past now   
I should get over this affair 

We’re both good friends again  
I should be happy just for you   
But something deep inside still hurts   
Yet you haven’t got a clue

I hope to God you treat her right  
That you love her and adore   
I didn’t leave just for you   
To find another whore


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, what is this?” Brandon asked, holding up a half crumpled piece of paper with smudged writing on it. 

Randy tried to examine it from where she was standing but ultimately failed. Her eyesight sucked and the writing was far too small to even be legible. She doubted that it was very important though, considering Brandon fished it out from underneath one of her seats. 

“Probably just old schoolwork,” She shrugged, “Throw it away.”

“It looks like a poem though.” Brandon pointed out, unfolding it so that he could take a better look. 

As much as Randy didn’t want him looking through her old writing, she really couldn’t find the energy to stop him. Besides, it was just a stupid old poem and she had more important things to be doing. Like cleaning out her car which Brandon was supposed to be helping her with until he got distracted. 

“Damn, someone was bitter,” Brandon teased, crumpling up the paper again and throwing it into the small plastic bag. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your little hate poem about you and Seth.”

“Shut up,” Randy huffed, her face turning a deep shade of red. Of all the shitty old poems he could have stumbled upon, why did it have to be that one?

“You know you’re over-exaggerating, right?” Brandon said, “Believe it or not, Seth actually gave a shit about you.”

“If he cared, he sure had a funny way of showing it. Besides, none of that shit matters anymore, anyway.” 

“If it doesn’t matter, why’d you write a poem about it?” 

“I wrote that like a year ago, dude,” Randy said, shoving another piece of paper into the bag.

“Bullshit. You’re telling me you haven’t cleaned out your car in a year?” 

“I cleaned out my car last month. It probably just fell out of my backpack.” 

“Suurree, it did.” Brandon mocked. 

“You know we’re gonna be late if you don’t shut your mouth and help me clean.”

“Fine, fine.” He caved, grabbing a couple more pieces of paper and throwing them away. 

The two worked in relative silence until eventually, it was all done. Randy had reorganized all of her charging cables and CDs while Brandon collected all the spare change and stuck it in the middle compartment. Pretty soon all that spare change would be used to buy the two slushies but for now, they had to get going, or else they would miss the first act of the play. About halfway into their drive, Brandon spoke up again. 

“If you guys broke up four years ago, why are you still writing poems about him?”

“I’m not,” 

“Dude,” 

“Ok, so I wrote like one poem about him in four years. So what?” Randy huffed, turning down an unlit road. 

“So that’s three years of nothing and then a hate poem,” Brandon pointed out, “What the fuck?”

“Look I just… I found out he had a new girlfriend, ok? And maybe I was still a little pissed.” 

“So you’re jealous?”

“I am not jealous! I just don’t want him to treat her like he treated me.”

“That sounds like jealousy.” Brandon teased. 

“If it was jealousy, I’d want her to suffer and then get hit by a train,” Randy concluded

“That’s called homicide.”

“What’s the difference?” She joked, a smile starting to form on her face. 

“God, you’re awful.” Brandon laughed. 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“I’d sell you to Satan for a bag of chips.” 

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“You’re right… two bags of chips.”

“C’mon, I think I’m at least worth two and a half,” Randy argued. 

“You wish. Anyways, does your new loverboy know about your hate poem?”

“Cody isn’t my loverboy. Besides, he’d probably never date me anyways”

“Damn,” Brandon replied, “Why not,”

“He’s a Christian.”

“So,”

“Christians don’t exactly go for gothic-looking, atheist chicks.” Randy reminded him.

“Bet. Seth went for you.”

“That was when I was a Christian.” 

“You still looked like a fucking metal-head, bitch.” 

“No, I didn’t.”

“You had blue hair and wore black skinny jeans with chains.” 

“Whatever,”

“I’m right,” Brandon mumbled, turning up the radio as a Pink Floyd song came on.


End file.
